


Loose Ends

by PsiRadish



Category: Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Children, Drama, F/F, Fantastic Racism, Humor, Interspecies Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-15
Updated: 2010-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 18:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4796999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsiRadish/pseuds/PsiRadish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jill must return to Daein one last time before beginning her life with Lethe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hiding

“The nearest village is about two miles away, you can stop hiding.” 

Lethe gave Jill an annoyed stare. “Wearing a cloak is not hiding.” 

“But hiding in a cloak is.” Lethe only grunted. “Daein is ruled by Begnion, now, anyway. You won’t be attacked just for being laguz.” Lethe’s snort mirrored Jill’s own disbelief in what she just said. 

“Tell Ranulf that.” 

“Hmm?” 

“In Crimea, before the reconstruction – before the people were dependent on laguz labor, and were free to ignore all the nice laws the government made about treating laguz equally. Ranulf was attacked by a mob at the port.” 

A laguz attacked in a Crimean port. That sounded very familiar. “I think I was there when that happened.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah...,” Jill trailed off. She didn’t like talking or even thinking much about her life before joining Ike. Her life as an utter fool. Though, if she knew Lethe, she knew the cat laguz was fighting with a savage bout of curiosity right now. And she knew Lethe. 

For both Lethe’s sake and her own she changed back to the original subject. “Really, though, nobody will see you. The manor has been empty for months, nobody would come here.” She walked nearer Lethe as they moved down the path. “And if anyone did, you’d smell them coming,” she said with a tap on Lethe’s nose. 

Lethe wrinkled it slightly in response. “My nose is better than yours but hardly fool-proof. Why do you want me to take this off so badly, anyway?” 

“I can hardly see you for one thing.” This was true. Though she never said as much out loud, she greatly appreciated the usually clear view of Lethe’s long legs. But mostly... “And I just don’t like you having to hide what you are,” she said in a more serious tone, taking both of Lethe’s hands as they stopped in front of the door. 

Lethe smiled slightly as their foreheads touched together. “That’s sweet, but...,” her sentence trailed off as she was distracted by Jill’s finger tracing down her cheek. 

“We could make it just the first thing you take off,” Jill suggested with a playful smile. 

Jill’s playful smile was returned with a small laugh added to it. “I won’t be able to smell anything but you, then.” 

“In that case we can just lock the door again,” Jill replied as she presented the key to open the door, somewhat awkwardly with their heads still pressed together as they were. 

“Hmm, well, why didn’t you mention that before?” Lethe almost purred. 

Jill’s eyes turned away, her mood changing visibly. “Father never liked having the door locked while anyone was home. He wanted his people to feel as welcome as possible,” she answered mutedly. 

Lethe’s response was a soft kiss followed by a supportive embrace. Jill smiled into Lethe’s shoulder. Small at first, but growing until it reached the limits of what her face was capable of. Lethe would hold her like this for as long as she needed. Even forever if she asked her to. 

She picked her head up and returned Lethe’s kiss with one of passion, passion that grew much as her smile had, until it would soon eclipse any comparison to smiling if not for a sudden interruption. 

“Lady Fizzart?” 

Jill suppressed a groan of frustration, and then suppressed another as Lethe seemed unaffected, her eyes locked on their visitor before sniffing the air. “Downwind,” she said as though making a point. _‘Right, so her nose isn’t fool-proof,'_ her foggy mind eventually put together. _‘That’s great,'_ it added bitterly. 

* * *

She’d heard rumors that the young Lady Fizzart was returning to Daein. She finished her chores early so she could visit the manor to find out for sure, and maybe welcome the Lady back home. 

No one would go with her. There were other rumors, too. Rumors that only she refused to believe. 

She found the gate open and a new spring was added to her step. She walked through it and down the paths of the courtyard, spotting an empty moving cart as she made her way to the front door. There she saw the unmistakable red hair of her Lady and without thinking called out to her. 

Immediately she realized she appeared to be interrupting something. Hands over her mouth and blushing bright red, she came closer to apologize and, of course, find out who the young Lady’s lover was so she could tell all her friends later. Though when she came closer she saw that the Lady’s companion had the face and build of a woman, and concluded she must have been seeing things. 

“My Lady Fizzart, it is you!” she exclaimed brightly. “Is Begnion allowing you to assume lordship of Talrega? We would all love to have the Fizzart family watching over us again.” _‘As soon as we stop believing those filthy rumors, anyway.’_ “Maybe you can protect us from Begnion. All they do is take control of our schools and fill the children’s heads with rubbish about how to treat sub-humans. An arrow between the eyes is all–" Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard what sounded an awful lot like a hiss coming from her Lady’s companion. Confusing as that was, her mind quickly darted to another realization: that she hadn’t stopped to let her Lady speak since she’d started talking. “Oh, forgive me, my Lady, sometimes my mouth just gets a mind of it’s own!” 

The young Lady Fizzart looked at her for a moment before answering. “The magistrate only gave me permission to move my belongings out of the manor. I do not know who will take lordship here.” 

“Oh, it figures they wouldn’t let a real Daein rule anything.” Her Lady seemed to stiffen slightly at that, and she happily assumed it was from anger at Begnion. “Begnion wants everything under their thumb. They’re nothing but vultures, feeding on what’s left after Crimea’s savagery.” 

“I don’t know if they would have let me rule or not,” her Lady said sharply. “I did not ask.” 

The sudden shock of this answer threatened to make real thinking occur in her head. “What?! Why not?!” 

“I do not want to.” 

“W-w-why not?” The rumors began to repeat in her mind, but she forced them down. 

“I am going to live somewhere else.” She failed to notice that this was not a direct answer to her question. 

“W-where?” 

“Gallia.” 

If we were to use an analogy of gear-works for the workings of the mind, we would say that the gears of Lady Fizzart’s visitor had just violently jammed. 

_‘It... it must be a joke.’_ Her gears slowly moved back into harmony as she gave a hearty laugh. “Very funny, my Lady Fizzart. How long have you been playing a joke on me?” Stepping foot in Gallia would be suicide, and she couldn’t really wish to leave her father’s lordship behind. And to even consider that those rumors might be true was absolutely absurd. 

“I’m not joking.” 

Her gears hit a definite rough spot as she fought to keep the rumors from providing an explanation, though try as she might, she couldn’t think of anything else. But she was just a simple farm girl, she told herself. She couldn’t expect to understand what lords and ladies did. If her Lady would just say the rumors weren’t true, she would believe her, and she’d make sure everyone else did, too. 

But she couldn’t just ask her directly. That would be most audacious. So instead... “My Lady... forgive me, but... where have you been all this time? You have not been seen anywhere in Daein for months.” 

“I was in Crimea,” her Lady answered plainly. 

Her heart lurched. “W-why?” 

“To fight for its freedom from King Ashnard,” her Lady answered plainly again. 

The world seemed to spin. The young Lady Fizzart, fighting with Crimea against Daein. Against her own father. When she went to her Lady outside the capital the day the kingdom fell and told her to flee... did her Lady have a good laugh after she left? “W-w-why?!” 

“Because it was right,” her Lady answered a little more than plainly. 

“Right? Betraying us?” 

“I did not betray y-" 

“Betraying your father? That was right?!” 

Her Lady glared at her. “My father-" 

“Did he even see it coming?!” Her Lady opened her mouth again, but she continued. “Was he taken by surprise at all when his own daughter STABBED HIM IN THE BACK?!!” The last few words were screamed with her eyes squeezed shut in anger. 

When she opened them and looked into her Lady’s eyes she realized she’d just shouted insults at an enemy soldier with nothing to shield her from retaliation. And she was very afraid. 

* * *

Jill did not like this girl. From the moment she started speaking she did not like her. Interrupting that kiss was a bad start. Then calling her a “real Daein,” which bothered her for reasons she did not want to admit. Calling the Crimean invasion savagery and Begnion vultures without a thought for the true savagery that Crimea suffered under Daein rule, and ignoring the savagery Talrega suffered under Daein order. One demonstration after another that she didn’t have a thought in her head, and with every passing moment Jill wanted her to go away with an ever-more burning passion. 

But what the girl said about her father took things to another place entirely. 

She had wept out all her sorrow over her father’s death. She’d held none of it back. But what she had held in was the anger. Anger that grew into rage. Anger that grew into hate. Anger that was now going to be released. 

" _YOU_ KILLED HIM!!!” Lethe cringed at the volume and pitch of Jill’s voice. " _YOU_ BETRAYED HIM!!!” Jill stomped closer to the girl as each accusation was hurled. “YOU AND YOUR ENTIRE GODDESS-FORSAKEN COUNTRY!!!” Jill took a ragged breath before continuing. “He came here to escape Begnion’s corruption only to be killed by yours!! You let him start a family, build his trust, and then you kill him!! Force him to die in shame, in the defense of his own land’s destruction!!” 

“Jill,” Lethe said with a hand on her shoulder, but Jill failed to notice. 

“YOU betrayed my father!! And you betrayed ME!!!” Jill gasped for air and calm as tears streamed down her face. For a moment it seemed as though she was finished. But as much as she wished she could stop there, more anger remained. 

“AND HE LET YOU!!!” Lethe cringed again. “He HATED what he was doing, HATED what he was defending, KNEW Daein was wrong, KNEW it wasn’t worth serving, and he still gave his life for it!! He HATED how he had to raise me, HATED the lies the schools taught me, but he still let it happen!! He let you betray us both, and then he let you kill him!!” 

“Jill,” Lethe said again with more force while shaking her shoulder. Jill still did not notice. 

“They told me... his last words... the last thing he said was my name.” Her vision completely blurred by tears, Jill could no longer see the quivering girl in front of her. Which was just as well, as she was no longer talking to her anymore. “And he had NO RIGHT!!!” she sobbed. “NO RIGHT to think of me then!! Where were his thoughts of me when he could have surrendered?! Where were his thoughts of me when he decided to fight to the death for no reason at all?! Was it to punish yourself, father? Some perverted sense of justice that you should die for your mistakes?” She shook her head. “Well then, what did I do? What did I do to deserve losing my father?! Why didn’t you think of that you selfish BASTARD!!!” 

“Jill!” Lethe shouted, turning her around and wrapping her arms around her. Jill shrunk into the embrace and broke down completely, shaking them both with the strength of her sobs. 

* * *

Paralyzed first by fear and then by wonder, the visitor from the nearby village simply watched as Jill’s tears slowed bit by bit, minute by minute in her companion’s arms until eventually there were only sniffles. With sudden curiosity and the single-mindedness of the empty-headed she looked to the companion and asked, “Who are you?” 

Both Jill and her companion turned to look back at her, Jill with some shame added to the anger that remained in her eyes. “I am Lethe,” the companion answered, then turned and looked to Jill questioningly. Jill looked back with a confused look and a nod. “Her lover,” the companion added. 

The gears jammed again. “B-b-but... you’re a...” she stammered. 

“A what?” they both prompted her with extraordinary interest. 

“A woman!” she continued, aghast. 

Jill and Lethe seemed frozen for a moment before they both gave a relieved breath, Lethe pairing hers with an also-relieved, “Oh.” A second later she continued with, “Yeah,” as if to confirm the village girl’s assessment of her gender. 

This all seemed very strange to the girl, and her mind began putting things together in an uncharacteristically intelligent fashion. The large cloak. The hiss. The stripes on Lethe’s face she assumed were tattoos. Gallia. And now this strange paranoia they shared over what she said Lethe was. “Why... are you wearing that cloak? This is hardly the weather for it.” 

They exchanged another paranoid look before Lethe answered, “It sounds like you already have a theory.” 

The girl didn’t have quite enough spine to confront her suspicion directly, so she asked another question. “Where are you from?” 

Jill and Lethe looked at each other again before Lethe sighed and brought her hood down, revealing ears that gave an answer her mouth soon confirmed. “Gallia.” 

“S-sub-human!” the village girl gasped, and was met with a hiss from Lethe, causing her to flinch. 

“Didn’t the schools you were complaining about teach you we don’t like that name?” 

For no reason she could think of after the fact, she actually answered Lethe’s question, albeit quite shakily. “I-I’m done with school.” 

“Hmph. Beorc let their children out of school too early.” 

To this she responded in a way she later agreed made much more sense. She turned and ran back to the village as fast as her legs could carry her. 

* * *

Lethe was watching the girl’s form fade into the distance when Jill took her hand. “Come on, we better finish here quickly before the village sums up the courage to do something stupid.”

Lethe grunted in agreement as they walked through the door. She gave the foyer a cursory examination before giving Jill a more thorough one. She looked tired. Exhausted. As if from prolonged exertion. 

Jill saw Lethe looking at her and gave her a smile. “Well, at least this means you don’t need to wear that cloak anymore, right?” 

Lethe allowed herself to laugh, knowing Jill needed a change of mood. “Yes, I suppose I don’t.” Jill’s months of exertion were finally over, and Lethe would allow her to rest. 


	2. Answers

It was the last room. The room she’d been avoiding. The room she’d been dreading. The room where she half-expected to see her father sitting in his chair, waiting for her, stern-faced and a scolding at the ready. 

She opened the door to her father’s study slowly, nervously, like she had as a child in anxious anticipation of the reason he had summoned her there. Just as when she was a child the first thing her eyes went to was the chair. The chair from which he would declare punishments and lecture on the proper behavior of a soldier and a lady, a picture of cold discipline and control. The chair from which he would declare his pride in her and sing the praises of her most recent accomplishments, looking like the happiest father in the world. 

But unlike when she was a child, the chair was empty, and had been for some time. 

She walked into the room slowly, only half-cured of her irrational fears. She could still feel his eyes on her, somehow. From the chair. From the shadows of the room. It felt as though the room itself was watching her, expectantly. 

She sat down in the other chair. Truthfully, there were more than two chairs in the room, but in her mind she could only ever see the two; his chair behind the desk, and her chair in front of it. Her chair in times of punishment and lecture. In times of pride and praise she always ended up on his knee, even into her teen years. 

From her chair she looked across the desk to his, looked into her father’s eyes across the divide that separated them, and she spoke. 

“I’m sorry.” She looked down at her lap where her hands were clasped together. “I was angry and I said terrible things.” She lifted her head again to look at the memory of her father, sitting in his chair. “I hope you can forgive me.” 

She shook her head, looking away again with a sad smile. “But how can I ask that when I can’t forgive you?” Her gaze returned to her father, looking no longer penitent. “I’m sorry for... how I spoke of you, for what I called you, but... I meant what I said. I don’t understand why you let yourself die. Why you left me al...” She squeezed her eyes shut and sniffed, shaking her head. “Haar said your men had no trouble getting their families out of Daein. And he said with the chaos of the war it wouldn’t have been any harder if you had surrendered. And he said you would have known that. Especially as the time came to surrender, as you saw the might of Crimea’s forces, you would have known. So why?” 

She closed her eyes tightly again as another question burned in her mind. “And why... did you say my name? Why then? What did it mean?” She sat there with her eyes closed for several moments, letting tears fall gently down her face as the question hung in the air. Then she picked herself up, dried her eyes, and looked around the room. 

What did she want to take with her? She was only here for personal items, for things that brought back the few memories she could still be proud of. Mostly things of her mother so far. In this room she would find things of her father. 

But as she searched the room she found nothing to take. The books, bookcases, records, and pens that filled the room never held any significance for her. The desk meant nothing without the chairs. Her chair only brought back not-exactly-fond memories of every scolding she’d ever received. And her father’s chair... was empty. It was only a reminder that he was gone. 

No, the things she wanted to take from this room had already been taken. Her father’s knee. His pride-filled voice. His smiling face. And not even the most feeble of replacements for these things could be found, in this room or anywhere else. Forgiveness. Apology. Answers. 

She had to dry her eyes again as she left the room empty-handed. 


	3. The Strongest

The sun was low in the sky when they finished harnessing the horses to the now loaded moving cart. Under better circumstances they would have spent the night and left the next morning, but with Lethe’s identity revealed they thought it best to get moving as soon as possible. 

It was while Jill was in the stables busy with the effort of waking up her wyvern that Lethe heard movement from the woods on the west end of the manor. Three creatures. Humanoid. Incompetent at stealth. Evidently thinking to hide the sight of their approach using the forest, they succeeded only in making the sound of their approach all the more obvious, as they stepped on every twig, tripped on every root, and gave poorly muted shouts with every fumble their feet made. 

And so Lethe was not too terribly surprised when the scent that came on the wind was that of three beorc children. 

* * *

A sub-human at the lord’s manor! It had the village in an uproar. Everywhere were women speaking in panicked voices about how to protect their children and stop their men from going on some fool hunt. And everywhere else were men speaking in disgruntled voices about how to hunt sub-humans and stop their women from all this fool blubbering. One man in particular had almost everyone’s ear as he spouted anti-sub-human rhetoric in the center of the village. The only ones not taking part in the madness were the children and a single girl just shy of being a child herself. 

The girl only watched the goings on in stupefied awe and, occasionally, guilt. She’d been the one to bring back the news. She caused this madness. And she agreed it was madness. Almost the moment she finished the word “sub-human” panic took hold and kept anyone from hearing another word she said, despite how much more there was to say. Or maybe she shouldn’t have said anything at all. 

As for the children, most of them were locked in their homes by their hysterical mothers, bored completely out of their minds and, if they were of school age, wondering what the big deal was. Sub-humans might be uncivilized savages, but the teacher says they’re not monsters. As long as you don’t do something stupid like call them names or poke them with a stick, they’ll leave you alone. 

This is how most of the children fared. We say most because there were exceptions, and among these exceptions three were particularly exceptional. Steve, Mike, and Jake were different from other children. At an age when most of their friends were still boys, Steve, Mike, and Jake were real full-grown men. They took great pride in this fact, and made sure everybody knew about it, sometimes reminding people several times a day. 

And as real full-grown men they wouldn’t be confined at home while there was a sub-human on the loose, no matter how many locks or angry mothers stood in their way. Though that there was only one of each did make things easier. And they didn’t so much face the angry mothers as they did sneak around them. But this does not stop them from being real full-grown men, which they were. 

Once free from their imprisonment, they met at their usual spot to discuss what they should do as real full-grown men. Steve led them to an agreement that they would sneak into the manor and see this sub-human for themselves. They would find out once and for all who was right about sub-humans, the school or their parents, and then do whatever was necessary to protect the village. 

They set out without delay, as hesitation was for little boys, and they were real full-grown men. If pressed to realize this also led them to neglect weapons or provisions, they would simply conclude such things were also for little boys. 

* * *

The children were at the edge of the forest when Jill came from the stables dragging a still-groggy wyvern. “Something wrong?” she asked, noticing Lethe’s distracted look. 

“There are three beorc hiding in the woods.” At Jill’s look of alarm Lethe recalled another important detail. “Children.” 

This replaced Jill’s alarm with concern. After a moment she said, “I think we can ignore them, then.” 

Lethe gave a feminine growl. “Easy for you to say. You can’t hear what they’re saying.” 

* * *

“Is that it?” asked Mike. 

“A dragon laguz!” Jake said in awe. 

Mike and Steve looked back and forth between Jake and the scene before them several times before Mike said, “That’s Lady Jill’s wyvern, stupid!” 

“Oh,” said Jake. “Then what?” 

Mike pointed. “That!” 

“The girl with the tail,” Steve added. 

Jake considered her for a moment. “She doesn’t look like a monster.” 

“She has a tail,” Steve said. 

“And ears!” Mike enthused. 

“Yeah, but she’s mostly a person,” Jake insisted. 

“Yeah, but we can’t see her face. With those ears I bet it’s all hairy and ugly like a cat,” Mike said. 

“Cats aren’t ugly,” Steve said absentmindedly, but neither of them heard. 

* * *

“What are they saying?” Jill asked. 

“They’re speculating on how ugly my face is,” Lethe scowled. 

Jill responded with an amused smile. When Lethe only continued to pout for several moments the smile changed to a look clearly meant to question Lethe’s intelligence. Then with a roll of her eyes Jill grabbed Lethe’s shoulders and turned her around to face the forest. 

* * *

The children were stunned into silence. Her face was not hairy, ugly, or cat-like. It was quite human. _Quite_ human. _Very_ quite human. 

Jake was the first to find words and, if compared to what the others would have said, best put in words what they were feeling. 

“She’s pretty...” 

* * *

Lethe’s ears did a mad dance as here eyes threatened to fall out of her head. She could _not_ have heard that right... 

* * *

Though somewhat bashful, Mike and Steve readily agreed with Jake, both thinking that part of being a real full-grown man was knowing and talking about which girls were pretty and which girls weren’t. 

Consensus reached, they went so far as to do their secret committee handshake and make it official decree that Lady Jill’s sub-human friend is pretty. 

* * *

“They... they think I’m pretty,” Lethe said, stunned. As silence stretched on she turned to see that Jill, too, was surprised. It occurred to part of her that she should at least pretend to be upset at that, but the thought failed to take hold in her present state of mind. 

Besides, the part of her that had that thought was pacified when Jill’s surprise abated and she said with a smile, “Well, they’re right.” 

* * *

Having set a precedent for official declarations of prettiness, the three real full-grown men briefly began to discuss what other girls were pretty. With the benefit of proximity Lady Jill was the first mentioned, then a few girls from their village followed. As Mike was trying desperately to remember the name of the pegasus knight that was in the village once, Steve remembered what brought them there in the first place. 

He stood up and began to speak to his comrades of the danger their pretty cat-girl – for he had decided the word sub-human did not properly convey her beauty – was in. At that very moment that big jerk Beck was rallying the village to hunt down and probably kill her. Everyone knew being pretty was no protection from Beck, and anyone who would follow Beck had probably given up his wits, too. 

They were all in agreement. Pretty cat-girl needed protection. And as real full-grown men it was their duty to protect pretty girls, and maybe get kisses from them after. They would fight off her attackers to the death if need-be, and be not just real full-grown men, but heroes! Besides, they probably wouldn’t have to really fight, anyway. Surely not even Beck would attack children. 

Not that they were children. 

* * *

Lethe was only half-focused as they finished their last-minute preparations to leave, her concentration degrading with time as her ears were locked on the forest behind her. Eventually none was left, and she only stood there, listening. 

She should be offended. She should be really offended. Children thinking she needed protection. Children thinking she needed protection from beorc. _Beorc_ children thinking she needed _their_ protection from beorc. It was absolutely insulting. 

But they were children. And not just beorc children. To say laguz children would never do anything like this would be a ridiculous lie. Children were children, it seemed. And the antics of children no less innocent between one race and another. 

It should be insulting. But instead it was adorable. And really, really funny. 

Jill’s look of utter confusion at Lethe’s sudden laughter only made Lethe laugh harder. “Th... they’re coming over,” Lethe managed to gasp out, and Jill’s confusion increased. 

Lethe had most of her laughter under control by the time the children stopped in front of them, but it became a fight when she heard one of the children whisper to another that “she’s prettier when she’s smiling.” 

The boys fidgeted, the two on the side looking to the one in the middle. The one in the middle eventually kneeled, fist to the ground like a knight, and spoke. “M-my lady, we fear that you are in danger. Many men in our village w-want to kill you. We offer you our protection.” 

Lethe schooled her features as best she could, as Jill was in no state to respond. As cute as this was, these children needed to be as far from any confrontation as possible. She had little faith in the benevolence of a mob towards children that get in their way. “I thank you for your offer but it won’t be necessary. We will be leaving soon and me and Jill can take care of ourselves.” 

The boys looked very disheartened as the one in the middle stood up. “But...” The one in the middle’s mouth worked as he searched for something to say. “Oh! I didn’t give you our names.” The other boys looked somewhat disappointed in what their leader came up with. “I am Steve. This is Mike and Jake,” he said, pointing. 

Lethe nodded at each of their names before responding, “I am Lethe.” 

“And I am Jill,” Jill said, finally coming out of her stupor. “You boys had best head home now.” 

Something Jill said seemed to relight the fire in the children’s eyes. “We’re not boys, Miss Jill. We’re men,” Steve proclaimed. 

“And we already knew your name, Lady Jill,” Jake added with a bow. 

“Our honor won’t let us let such fine ladies go unprotected,” Steve said proudly. 

“Well, we both appreciate what honorable men you all are, but I’m afraid you can’t protect us if we’re not here, and we’re leaving very soon,” Jill explained. 

The boys looked disheartened once again before Jake blurted out, “We could go with you!” The other two boys stared at Jake, all three looking panicked. “We could... escort you... until you’ve left Daein, uh, Talrega. I mean, Daein,” he said as though he wished he could take back every word as it came out of his mouth. 

All three boys began to look sick as they turned back to their wards, awaiting a response. Before they could get one Mike’s stomach growled. “I’m hungry,” he said without realizing it. 

“You want to protect us but you haven’t even the wits to feed yourselves?” Jill asked harshly. Though she realized it was for their own good, the hurt look on the boys’ faces caused a small pang in Lethe’s heart. “Go home. We have no need of inept protectors.” With that, Jill turned back to the cart. 

The three boys shuffled their feet self-consciously, Jake fighting the urge to cry. They all looked to Lethe hopefully, waiting for anything to assuage their bruised egos. When nothing came, Steve looked at Jill before coming closer to Lethe and whispering, “She’s mean,” then he turned to leave. Lethe had another small fight with laughter, struck with how backward the situation was, a beorc child confiding in kind and understanding Lethe about mean ole’ Jill. 

As they walked away Jake lost the battle with his tears, and Mike turned to his friend and repeated, “I’m hungry,” this time deliberately. 

This was a little too much for Lethe. Leaving three good kids to walk home in the dark crying _and_ hungry. She turned to Jill. “We could feed them,” she suggested. 

Jill paused in surprise for a moment before she sighed and said, “We don’t have time.” 

“There’s plenty of that soup left.” Of course there was. There was no meat in it. But that didn’t stop beorc from liking it, and these children were beorc. “They’re old enough to use a stove without hurting themselves, right?” 

“They should be, with all that bravado,” Jill muttered. 

“So we just show them the kitchen and leave.” 

Jill sighed again. “Alright. Alright.” Then she grinned. “You big softie,” she said, poking Lethe gently in the stomach. 

Lethe scowled and very nearly said to forget the whole thing. Very nearly. 

* * *

They’d been on the road for ten minutes, Lethe grumbling frequently about how slow they were going, when she smelled the approach of many beorc men, the growing rumble of their footsteps following in her ears. 

They might have been able to escape on Haar, Jill’s wyvern, if it still weren’t half-asleep. Lethe had to disagree with Jill’s name for it. Captain Haar’s constant napping somehow never stopped him from doing what needed to be done. The wyvern Haar would likely send them hurtling into the ground from seventy feet up if they tried to ride him now. 

But even were that not the case, Jill would rather not leave this cart behind, and Lethe would rather she didn’t have to. Owning little herself, Lethe did not completely understand the attachment to material possessions, but she had great faith in Jill, and was not of a mind to dismiss anything Jill cared about. She had faith that Jill would know if and when the danger demanded they leave her things behind. 

Presently the danger was not great to Lethe’s thinking. It used to be that the Daein military would get involved in laguz hunts. But now the Daein military was Begnion, and Begnion military would have no part of hunting laguz. The men they would be facing were all villagers. And villagers were much more easily frightened than military. Lethe expected she’d only have to jump around and growl a few times in her animal form before they would all scatter like leaves. 

The leader of the mob was easily spotted as they came into view, standing at the fore with spear in hand, a picture of self-importance. He appeared to regard leading madmen as his calling, for he carried himself with all the arrogance of a king. He was easily smelled, as well, stinking of alcohol and opium and just plain stink. 

Lethe sat on the cart in plain view, her face unhidden. A hooded figure sitting next to Jill Fizzart on a cart coming from the manor where a laguz was sighted would hardly avoid suspicion. She would not waste the effort to hide from these fools. 

“Three of our children have gone missing since you arrived, sub-human. What have you done with them?” the leader asked. 

“Steve, Jake, and Mike are still at the manor if they’re not already on their way home,” Jill answered. 

“I was talking to the sub-human, _Lady_ Fizzart.” Lethe could not stop herself from hissing as he used the slur a second time. “Or can it only hiss like an animal and needs you to speak for it?” 

“I need no one to speak for me, human.” She bit her tongue on the last word. Human was a hate-filled word and she should be above using it, even if beorc did not find it offensive. 

“Oh. Then speak. What have you done with the children?” 

“We left them at the manor as she said. They came to see the sss...,” she hadn’t the will to call herself sub-human, even indirectly. "...the cat-girl for themselves,” she finished. “When they said they were hungry we showed them to what was left of our dinner and then we left. That was about twenty minutes ago.” She gave the whole story rather than let him lead it to the conclusions he wished. 

He stared at her hatefully for a moment before sharply bursting into laughter. “The benevolent sub-human, huh? You expect me to believe that? You’d have had better luck saying you never saw them at all!” 

“You need only go to the manor to find them,” Jill said. 

“Oh, and I suppose we’d leave you here alone to escape while we’re at it? First you feed on our children and then you insult our intelligence with these blatant deceptions! We know we’ll find the children at the manor. The parts of them you didn’t eat!” He spat in Jill’s direction. “What about you, _Lady_ Fizzart? Did you share a taste with your beast here? Did it taste better knowing their names first?” 

“I’d rather eat refuse than have beorc flesh anywhere near my mouth!” Lethe snarled. A naughty part of her mind began to think of the many exceptions Jill made to that rule, but she silenced it as well as she could. Now was not the time. 

“I’ll not listen to any more of your lies, monster!” he said as he readied his spear. “Prepare to...” His battle cry faded as he saw Lethe clearly no longer paying attention. 

A new scent came as the wind changed direction. One far more pleasant than the hate-filled men before her and the foul stench of their leader. One she would have rather not smelled right now. 

“The children are not at the manor,” she said, only half-looking at the mob’s leader. 

“What? Are you confessing? Do you think that will bring–" 

“They are _on their way home_ ,” she said into the forest, interrupting him. “They will _not_ be found _here_. They will be found _at home_. Or I will be _very upset_.” They almost certainly wouldn’t listen, but it was worth a try. 

“What is this madness?” the leader asked. “Have you forgotten how to speak, animal? No matter. I will soon put you out of your misery!” he yelled, charging forward. 

The men behind him were preparing to charge as well when three boys shouted, “Stop!” Lethe cursed. 

From behind the cart ran Steve, Jake, and Mike. Lethe jumped from the cart and stood in front of them, Jill following her. “Get out of here!” she commanded. 

“No!” Steve answered. “We’re here to protect you!” As he said this the three of them moved to stand between her and Jill and the mob. 

“Steven?” came a voice from the mob as a man stepped out of the crowd. 

“Dad?” Steve said. 

“Steven! Get away from that creature, now!” his father called. 

“No! We’re protecting her from you!” Steve shouted. 

“Do what your father says, Steven,” Lethe ordered. 

“No! And don’t call me Steven! I’m Steve!” he answered. 

“What treachery is this? What have you done to these children?!” the leader demanded, obviously frustrated with the halt of his charge. 

“You already asked that. And we already answered,” Jill answered wearily. 

“She didn’t do nothin’ to us, Beck! They just fed us! The cat-girl’s nice!” Steve proclaimed. 

“It was just a sub-human trick, she’s a monster, now get out of the way children!” Beck demanded. 

“Trick? What trick? A trick to make us eat soup? That’s just dumb, Beck!” Steve said. 

“That soup didn’t have any meat. Maybe that was the trick,” Mike mocked. 

Beck was clearly growing angrier by the moment. “It doesn’t matter if you can see the trick, everything a sub-human does is lies and trickery! Never trust them! Now get out of the way!!” 

“Get out of the way, all of you,” Lethe agreed, and Steve’s father echoed a similar cry. 

Steve was only listening to Beck. “That’s horse-manure! The only person that’s true of is you, Beck!” Steve gave his father a pointed look before continuing, “My dad always says stay away from Beck and never listen to a thing he says! Course he don’t need to tell me that, most anyone can figure it out on their own.” 

Beck was very very angry now. “You’re just a bunch of stupid kids and this is grown-up stuff you wouldn’t understand! Now GET OUT OF THE WAY!!!” 

“We’re not kids and you’re the stupid one you big jerk!” And with that Steve kicked Beck in the shin. 

“YOU LITTLE BRAT!!!” Beck roared, lifting his spear, ignoring the cries of the men behind him as he thrust it at Steve’s chest. 

There was a blur of movement before Beck’s spear was stopped mid-thrust, shaft firmly held by Lethe, Steve standing safely behind her. Beck shouted in frustration as he made a futile attempt to wrench it from her grasp. “How weak must a man be to strike at a child?” Lethe asked, her eyes looking into Beck’s coldly. 

He regained some semblance of control before responding. “You monsters think humans are all so weak, don’t you?” 

“I was speaking only of you, weakling,” Lethe responded sharply. “I have met many of your kind who are strong. Jill. Queen Elincia. These children. They are among the strongest I’ve seen.” Steve, Jake, and Mike would remember for the rest of their days the time when the pretty cat-girl said they were some of the strongest men she’d ever seen. “If not the brightest.” And they would conveniently forget what she said after. 

“They are far stronger than you,” Lethe continued. Beck yanked on the spear again as his anger was rekindled. “Just how weak are you, weakling? Are you so physically weak that a kick to the shin might have killed you, so you made a lethal attack in response?” She smiled as his anger grew even further. “Or are you also weak of mind? Weak of spirit? So weak with self-loathing that the words of a child can bring you to a killing-rage?” He yanked the spear again. “Yes, I could see it. I could smell it. The disgusting pleasure you took from leading their hatred. You live on the suffering of others. It sustains you. The only way you can stand yourself is when others are worse off than you.” 

“You BITCH!!!” he screamed, yanking the spear as hard as he could, nearly falling backward as Lethe simply let go. With another scream he lunged at her, and she easily lept well away as Jill stepped in, grabbing the extended spear and twisting, pulling it from his grasp. Crouching as she continued her spin, she struck him behind the knees with the staff, then put a foot on his chest and the blade to his neck as he landed on his back. 

Beck screamed in pure frustration, a primal scream that every sentient being present was ashamed to hear coming from another sentient being. When the scream ended his chest continued to heave in rage, spittle framing his lips. 

Jill looked up at the would-be mob and posed them a question. “Who is the monster here?” None answered, and she continued. “Who is the animal? Who is the roaring and slobbering beast?” Still no answers. “Who was it that attacked your children? And who was it that saved them?” 

Silence continued to reign, and Jill looked back down at the monster under her foot, looking no more human than when she had last seen him. “I remember this man. I remember him very well. But it seems that somehow you do not,” she said as she looked back up at the village men. “He is Beck. The biggest scoundrel in all of Talrega. A drunk. A cheat. A womanizer. And worse. If I recall he would try to work his limited charm on merchant women and other outsiders, as all the girls around here knew better. But on one drunken night after a particularly bad rejection he turned to a local girl, and didn’t take no for an answer.” 

“I never touched that bitch!! She’ll tell you, I didn’t-!!” His words were interrupted as Jill’s foot left his chest to kick him in the jaw. Hard. Though he didn’t let a mouth full of blood stop him from uttering his favorite word for women in response. 

“Of course, he scared her so bad she won’t say a word against him,” Jill continued. As she scanned the crowd she saw one face stick out, covered in anger and shame. “Was it your daughter, mister?” He looked up for the briefest second before slamming his head right back down. “Did you forget?” She looked over the rest of them. “Did you all forget? When the time came for hateful words and hateful actions, did you all forget yourselves and make your greatest scoundrel your hero?” 

Silence stretched on for several moments before Jill lifted her foot, tossed the spear to one of the village men, and walked back to the cart. “Lethe and I are leaving, now. If you would please move out of the way?” 

“Like hell we will!” Beck shouted as he got up, oblivious to the men stepping off the road behind him. 

“Who’s we?” Lethe asked. Beck looked utterly confused for a moment before turning around. 

“Y-you can’t be serious! It’s a sub-human, a monster! You can’t let it get away!!” he shouted. He got only withering glares in response, and with another primal scream he began to stomp off. Though he didn’t get very far. 

“Hey! What are you doing, bitch?! Let go!” 

“I’m not letting the monster get away,” Lethe responded, and proceeded to drag him by the hair towards the men gathered on the side of the road. 

“Help! Help! She’s going to kill me! You can’t let her kill me!” Beck screamed, all of his bravado gone without a mob of men behind him. 

“W-w-what do you want... m-miss?” one of the men spoke, voice shaken by fears that did not include any concern for Beck’s safety. 

“I didn’t think you wanted this man running loose,” she said, Beck shouting as she gave his head a jerk. When she got a wall of blank stares, she continued. “You all witnessed him attack one of your children. Surely you have laws against that? And punishments?” 

Light slowly dawned in the eyes of the man who first spoke to her, and though he was still visibly nervous, his tone was almost friendly as he answered, “Why yes we do, miss. Yes we do.” 

“Good. He’s all yours,” she said, Beck yelping once again as she threw him into the crowd of waiting men, nearly knocking some over. As she walked away she took a sadistic satisfaction from Beck’s gradually growing pleas for mercy as he was placed in restraints probably meant for her. Beorc had a word for that sort of thing. Irony, she thought it was. 

She tousled Steve’s hair as she walked by him to climb back into the cart. It wasn’t a kiss, but it would have to do. 

* * *

They were at the border of Daein at last. Many more days remained until they reached Gallia and Lethe’s home near the capital, but that seemed trivial somehow. Jill stood on the edge and looked back the way she had come. 

“What are you thinking?” Lethe asked. 

Jill closed her eyes and leaned her head on Lethe’s shoulder. “I hate this country.” 

She felt Lethe start. “I thought we had both learned not to hate.” 

“I know. I’m not proud of it, but... it’s hard.” She looked Lethe in the eye. “I never had anything personal against the laguz, it was just what I was taught. But...” She looked at her feet. “Daein killed my father. And made a fool of me for so long.” 

“Would you condemn its people for that?” Lethe asked. 

“No. No, it’s the government I hate. And the lies and ignorance the people have been swallowing for years. But that’s not entirely the people’s fault.” She tried to smile as she looked back at Lethe. “And even that’s changing. So maybe there’s hope.” 

Indeed, maybe there was. If their three little Daein protectors were any indication, maybe there was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote this I-don't-actually-know-how-long-ago, but I still rather like it – especially chapter 2 – so I decided to share it for realsies. I do know it was written before Goddess of Dawn came out, at least.
> 
> Not that Goddess of Dawn changes anything here really, besides making Jill's nascent hope at the end there turn out to be false. In my headcannon for Goddess of Dawn, Jill only fights alongside Micaiah until Daein is liberated (out of a strange maybe-not-entirely-healthy sense of obligation), and ultimately regrets even doing that much when Daein sides with Begnion against the Laguz; feeling (somewhat irrationally) like she let Daein fool her _twice_. She resolves not to waste any more hope on Daein after that, even after learning they had a-very-good-reason.


End file.
